Don't expect a lot of aerial dramatics despite the title, as this one is mostly a whodunit of a heist of railroad money, and a rather weak whodunit at that. The mystery is being investigated by both a local constable as well as a former railroad detective who has just recently returned from service in WWI, where he was a "flying ace" (Laurence Criner). There's another man who flies planes as well, someone who is frustrated by his unrequited love for the station manager's daughter, and we get a taste of his character when after having his marriage proposal turned down he says "Confound the perversity of woman. (sic) The next time I get her in that plane of mine, she'll say YES or get out and walk on a cloud." As there aren't a lot of possible characters in the cast who could be suspects we get the idea that he may have had something to do with it. It's not quite as simple as that and the ethyl chloride knockout spray was a nice little touch, but it would be hard to recommend the film based on the creaky mystery alone. Meanwhile, the scenes in the air are brief and clearly shot on the ground, without the benefit of a long shot or even stock footage, so the film is certainly lacking in the kind of production quality that you would see from the big Hollywood studios.
On the other hand, it's simply fantastic that a film made in 1926 featured an all-black cast without stereotypes, and with a variety of role models, not the least of were the aviators who inspired the young men who grew up to become Tuskegee Airmen (this according to TCM's fabulous Jacqueline Stewart). For a white director and studio head Richard E. Norman to show a heroic and intelligent black war pilot at a time when they weren't allowed to fly planes in the military, and wouldn't be until 1940, deserves credit for the statement it was making. And I have to say, if the story drags a bit for you despite the quick 65 minute runtime, stick around for the final reel, when the one-legged sidekick (Steve Reynolds) pedals his bicycle furiously in pursuit of the bad guys, busts out the gun he's concealed in his crutch, and then pursues them on foot. That was brilliant, and I really enjoyed this character. Lastly, Kathryn Boyd is a cutie as the station master's daughter, and the few close-ups she gets, one shedding a tear and others of her flirting with the hero at the end are wonderful.
It's definitely not the best silent film out there, but for what it represents and these characters, it's worth checking out.
On the other hand, it's simply fantastic that a film made in 1926 featured an all-black cast without stereotypes, and with a variety of role models, not the least of were the aviators who inspired the young men who grew up to become Tuskegee Airmen (this according to TCM's fabulous Jacqueline Stewart). For a white director and studio head Richard E. Norman to show a heroic and intelligent black war pilot at a time when they weren't allowed to fly planes in the military, and wouldn't be until 1940, deserves credit for the statement it was making. And I have to say, if the story drags a bit for you despite the quick 65 minute runtime, stick around for the final reel, when the one-legged sidekick (Steve Reynolds) pedals his bicycle furiously in pursuit of the bad guys, busts out the gun he's concealed in his crutch, and then pursues them on foot. That was brilliant, and I really enjoyed this character. Lastly, Kathryn Boyd is a cutie as the station master's daughter, and the few close-ups she gets, one shedding a tear and others of her flirting with the hero at the end are wonderful.
It's definitely not the best silent film out there, but for what it represents and these characters, it's worth checking out.